


your string of lights is still bright to me

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Past Character Death, Post-Episode: s03e22 Ascension, background Huntingbird - Freeform, background StaticQuake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22533970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: In Daisy's first month after leaving S.H.I.E.L.D., she decides to drop in on some old friends.
Relationships: Bobbi Morse & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Lance Hunter & Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 30
Kudos: 112
Collections: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, Palentine's Day 2020





	your string of lights is still bright to me

Once again, everything Daisy owned was on her back.

It was kind of funny, when she stopped to think about it. Even after joining S.H.I.E.L.D., she still didn’t own much. She had a place to sleep and some knick-knacks and some clothes, but most of what she wore was issued to her and she couldn’t carry her bed around with her. She had shoved a few things of importance into her bag - some jeans, a few shirts, a beanie, her laptop, her hula girl, and as much cash as she could scrounge up - and gone out the door before anyone could stop her.

She hadn’t thought it through, of course. She’d run away before and she knew running away was easier when you didn’t think of a destination. She took a bus to the middle of nowhere where she’d be harder to track, plopped herself in the back corner of Starbucks, and started digging through the darkest corners of the web. Once a hacker, always a hacker, Miles used to say.

Her digging had led her to a dilapidated house on the edge of the city limits. It barely looked habitable, but Daisy trusted her sources more than her own two eyes.

She considered knocking, but doubted she’d get an answer regardless if someone was home. Instead she went around back. There was a window just at chest height. She didn’t expect it to be unlocked, but jiggled it anyway just to check. When her suspicions were confirmed, she placed her palm against the glass and quaked it until it shattered.

Glass tinkled on the hardwood floors when Daisy ducked through the window, and she let out a heavy breath as she looked around. Shit furniture, a faintly musty smell in the air, a general lack of hominess… it made sense.

“I hope you’re planning to pay for that.”

Daisy raised her hands in surrender when she saw the gun still pointed at her. “If it means you won’t shoot me, sure.”

“Why the hell are you here, Dais?”

“Just wanted someplace to crash,” she answered, words sticking in her throat. She wasn’t going to stay for long - she couldn’t. Anyplace she stayed too long was cursed, and she couldn’t do that anymore. Couldn’t hurt people she loved.

“Not buying it.”

“Put the gun down.”

“Only bad guys say to put the gun down.”

“Being on the run’s made you even more paranoid than before.”

“It’s called trying to survive. Now tell me why you’re really here.”

“I…” _Fuck_. “Lincoln’s dead.”

Bobbi lowered the gun. “What?”

“I just…” Daisy swallowed hard. “I couldn’t stay with S.H.I.E.L.D. but I didn’t - don’t - want to be alone right now.”

“I’m not much good for company these days,” Bobbi said, tossing the gun onto the end table. “You want something to eat? We’ve got peanut butter and bread. Hunter might’ve left some beer somewhere, too.”

Daisy’s shoulders relaxed somewhat. She didn’t really want to talk about Lincoln, not now. Maybe not ever.

“Peanut butter sandwich is the dinner of champions, right?”

“Yeah.” Bobbi cracked a smile. “You can toss your bag wherever. Bedroom’s down that way.” She pointed down a hall, and Daisy nodded.

“No guest bedroom?”

“For what guests?” Bobbi asked. She didn’t sound bitter, exactly, but there was a sharpness to her voice that hadn’t been there before. “You can share a bed with me or sleep on the couch. From what I hear from Hunter, couch isn’t all that great.”

“You still couch him?” Daisy snorted as she shuffled down the hallway, placing her bag at the foot of the bed.

“You know it!” Bobbi called from the kitchen. “I found the beer if you want one.”

“Hit me.”

A can hit her in the chest as soon as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, and Daisy fumbled it for a moment before getting her grip. “Bud? Seriously?”

“Babe, all I have in the pantry is peanut butter and bread and you’re ragging on me for my choice in beer?”

“Did Coulson ever tell you what he found in Jemma’s fridge when she was working at HYDRA?” Daisy asked.

“Sriracha and beer, yeah. I don’t even have the sriracha.” Bobbi slid a plate with a sandwich across the counter before beginning to make another. 

“Are you two doing okay?” Daisy asked carefully. The Bobbi she knew was perfectly put together, too proud to admit to not having food to eat. The Bobbi she knew wasn’t rough around the edges.

“Could ask the same of you.” Time had changed them both. Funny, what a difference six months could make.

Daisy shrugged. “Everyone else is fine.”

“Didn’t ask about everyone else.” The knife _clang_ ed against the plate when Bobbi set it down.

“I’m…” _A mess_ , she wanted to say. Yes, Daisy Johnson was a mess. She was a hurricane - blowing everything apart and picking shit up along the way. She destroyed and she hurt and she was a _fucking mess_. She wasn’t even sure why she was there. Other than wanting someplace familiar - _someone_ familiar - but wanting to be as far from the rest of the team. And hey, maybe she would stay, now that she was pretty sure Bobbi was messed up, too. Then again, Daisy seemed to be able to make the worst situations even more fucked up. 

“I’m okay.”

“Yeah, your boyfriend died and you’re _okay_ ,” Bobbi said drily. 

Daisy popped the tab of her beer and took a long swallow. “I mean, I’m alive, so can I really complain?”

“I’m alive and I complain an awful lot.” Bobbi ripped a bite out of her sandwich with an odd viciousness. “It’s shit, you know. Living like this. No money, no friends, no security.”

“I think I know something about that, yeah.” She didn’t think about her van much anymore, but it wasn’t a bad idea to return to her roots. Get a new van, camp it someplace in the city… be close, but not too close. Daisy didn’t mind the nomadic life, especially now that she had the powers. Security wasn’t an issue.

“Seriously though, are you going to pay for that window?”

“Yeah, I got it.” She paused. “Didn’t you get paid? By Coulson?”

“Nope,” Bobbi said, popping the p. “We’re figuring it out. Don’t wanna make too many waves, you know?”

“I think so.” Daisy hopped onto the counter and shoved a bite of the sandwich into her mouth. For a peanut butter sandwich, it tasted pretty damn good.

“If the Russians come knocking, you’re in charge.”

“You got it,” Daisy mumbled around her sandwich. She hadn’t thought much about how she would explain her visit to anyone who happened to still be surveilling Bobbi and Hunter. They had done a good job covering their tracks, though. Daisy doubted anyone was still on their tail, but then again, the Russian government was a little overzealous. Or a lot overzealous.

“So,” Bobbi said, leaning on her elbows against the counter. “You don’t really want to talk. I don’t really want to talk. Movie?”

“Let me go get some popcorn first.”

“By ‘get’ you mean steal, right?”

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” Yeah, Daisy had money to repair a broken window, but she wasn’t going to spend five bucks on a box of popcorn when it would be just as easy to nick it. The vigilante lifestyle suited her.

“You’re going to come back?” Bobbi asked.

Daisy tried not to look sheepish. She’d be lying if she said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Just a quick check in, enough to regain her equilibrium and make sure everything was alright, and she could be off again before she caused Bobbi and Hunter any trouble.

“Well, if you do decide to come back, there’s a key in the flowerpot. Don’t break another window.”

Daisy nodded, and swung by the bedroom to grab her bag before heading out the door.

\---

“Where do you think we go after we die?” Daisy asked halfway through the movie.

Bobbi shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth. It wasn’t the only thing Daisy had “borrowed” from the Walmart, so she felt a little better about possibly bringing chaos into Bobbi’s life. At least she could eat something other than peanut butter sandwiches.

“Dunno. Ask Simmons.”

“I don’t mean physically,” Daisy said, eyes glued to the screen. Bobbi had to have known that. “And I know you know that too, so shut up.”

“I’ll shut up when you stop asking me questions I don’t want to think about.”

“Everything I touch dies. Figure I should know what I cause.”

“Back the fuck up,” Bobbi said, stabbing the pause button on the remote so she could turn to face Daisy. “I thought we were like, high school rebel level emo. Now I’m concerned.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Daisy asked. She kept staring at the still screen. “Trip. Lincoln. You and Hunter.”

“As I have told you, I am _very_ much alive. Pissed off, but alive. And as far as I know, Hunter is too.”

“Yeah, but you’re - you’re -”

“Living in a shithole? Yeah, I noticed.” Bobbi sighed. “Come here, Daisy.” She reached her arms out, and Daisy furrowed her brows. Bobbi gave her a _look_ , and Daisy sighed before scrambling across the couch to sit half on top of Bobbi, half beside her.

“I can’t speak for Trip, or for Lincoln. But I can speak for me and Hunter, and I know we would’ve made the same choice every damn time if it kept you and the rest of the team safe. Are we happy here? No, not really. But the both of us, we’ve endured a lot worse than being unhappy to save the people we love.” Bobbi paused. “And from the outside, it might look to you like everyone you touch dies, or gets hurts, or leaves. But from the inside… it just means a hell of a lot of people love you.”

Tears burned at the backs of her eyes, and Daisy didn’t know what to say.

“Put your head on my shoulder,” Bobbi murmured. Daisy obeyed, nestling further into Bobbi. Neither of them were everything they had been the last time they saw each other, and Daisy wasn’t sure she would ever find peace with that fact. She wanted to be everything she was when Bobbi left - she wanted to have hope again. To believe in the world’s goodness, to have someone who loved her, to -

“Shh.” Bobbi threaded her fingers through Daisy’s hair, and that was when she realized she was crying. 

“I can’t make it better,” Bobbi said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t take the pain away. If I could, I would. But I can’t.”

Daisy turned her head, blotting her tears away on the fabric of Bobbi’s shirt. Her friend couldn’t take away the pain, but it was enough that she wanted to.

\---

The next morning she woke up with a warm body pressed against her - but it wasn’t the one she had fallen asleep with.

“Hunter?”

“One and only,” a gruff voice responded.

“When’d you get back?” Daisy asked, rolling over. Her face still felt puffy and tight from crying, and she wasn’t sure she wanted Hunter to see it. Light spilled into the dark bedroom from the crack in the door to the bathroom. Bobbi was showering, by the sound of it.

“Hour or so ago. Didn’t want to wake you.” Daisy squinted at the clock on the bedside table. It was past two in the morning, but she doubted she’d be able to get back to sleep again. Embarrassingly, this was still the best sleep she’d had, since… 

“Bobbi tattled on me, didn’t she?” she asked, voice small.

“Yeah. Which reminds me.” Hunter rolled out of bed and offered his hand to Daisy. She didn’t take it, but clambered out of bed nonetheless. Hunter dropped his hand to the side and led Daisy past the broken window, into the backyard. He clambered up the porch railings until he was perched on top of it. Daisy looked at him skeptically, unsure the porch roof would be able to hold both of them, but Hunter just kept waiting until she joined him.

“Bob told me you had some questions about what happens… after,” Hunter said. “I’ve thought about it more than I’d like, and I think this is the answer.”

“We… sit on roofs?”

“No,” Hunter huffed. “Look up, Daisy.”

She didn’t want to. The sky was what had taken Lincoln from her - a parasite from space had taken the person she loved, and he had flown into the dark, cold vastness all alone to save her.

“Look up,” Hunter repeated softly, pressing his shoulder against hers.

Daisy obeyed.

“The last time I saw this many stars was the day… the day we left,” Hunter explained. He might’ve been right, Daisy thought. Living at the edge of the city gave a surprisingly good view of the stars, as long as they were facing away from the area all the light pollution was coming from.

“Did a lot of thinking that night,” he continued. “I wasn’t sure we were going to make it out, you know? So I kept thinking about what would’ve happened if we hadn’t. Where we’d go. And this was my answer.”

“Stars?”

“I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard Jemma’s whole thing about the first law of thermodynamics. Everything we are gets returned to the universe someday. But I think… I think there’s more to stars than just gases on fire. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that one day, stars die just like we do.”

“But they get longer.”

“They do. Compared to stars, we’re over like that.” Hunter snapped his fingers. “But compared to the life of the universe? Stars are over like that, too.” He snapped his fingers for a second time. “Everything is relative.”

“Didn’t think you thought this much, Hunter.”

“No one does,” he said, laughing wryly. “But I reckon a lifetime of wondering if I’ll get tomorrow makes me think more about this,” he waved his hand through the air, “than the average person.”

“So, our souls go into stars. And then when the stars explode -”

“You’re missing a whole bit in between,” Hunter interrupted. “People look at the stars. Wish on ‘em. Pray to ‘em. We live a second life there, in the cosmos. And we only explode after everyone who might’ve cared about us even a little is gone, too. Then… we return to the universe together.”

“Together,” Daisy repeated. She had to admit, returning to dust wouldn’t be so bad, if her dust was with Lincoln’s.

“That one,” Hunter said, pointing to a star just above the horizon, “is Iz. And that one,” he pointed to a nearby star, “is Idaho.”

“How do you know?”

“Feeling.” Hunter tapped the center of his chest. “Right here, I just know it.”

Daisy returned her gaze to the sky, eyes roving until she felt a tug in her chest. “I think that’s Lincoln,” she whispered, pointing.

“Hi, Lincoln,” Hunter said.

“Hi, Lincoln,” Daisy repeated numbly.

“You okay?” Hunter asked after a minute.

“Can we stay here a while?” 

“As long as you’d like.”

Not long after, Bobbi joined them on the roof. It creaked ominously under their combined weight, but didn’t buckle. Wedged in between the two of them, the coldness of early morning sinking deep into her bones and the star that was maybe Lincoln twinkling down on her, Daisy thought maybe she was going to be okay.


End file.
